The Predator (Dark Verse #1)

by RuNyx

The finger started to pull. Tristan whimpered, terrified. And before he even understood, he pulled the trigger. The force of the hit pushed Tristan down to the ground, the gun still gripped in his arms as the loud sound of the bullet broke through the hall, accompanied by curse words and screams, and the crying of the girl.

oh shit

With a hole right in the center of his head. The hole from a bullet. Something lodged in his chest. “You killed your own father?” Tristan heard the Boss’ voice. He heard him ask, heard the words, but kept looking at his dad, denying it in his heart. No. No. No. No. No. “That’s his father?” someone else asked. “How could he aim from there?” “How did no one know he was here?” “He’s ruthless for a kid. Can you imagine what he’d be like?”

She took a step back. "You lost your sister. Now, you've killed your father. My husband. My daughter." Tristan clenched his hands to keep from reaching out to her, not uttering a word. There wasn’t anything he could say. "My son was a sweet boy," his mother whispered almost to the door now. "You're not him. You're like them. Monsters."

A baby who, a few minutes ago, had been nothing to him. A baby for whom he’d murdered the father he’d loved so much. Tristan looked at her — her eyes swollen from crying, the colors in them shining and twinkling; her little mouth rosy and soft; her chubby face smeared with his and his father’s blood. The flutter he had felt in his chest minutes ago was gone. In its place was something else instead. Something he’d never felt before. Something he didn’t understand. Something twisted and ugly and alive, taking root inside his chest as he watched her breathe, because of him. Something poisonous bleeding its way into his heart, paralyzing it, deadening it, until he couldn’t feel it anymore.

He had spilled his father’s blood to protect her. His mother had called him a monster. She'd been right. He’d become a monster, more evil than all the men in the room, in one second. All because of her.

As of tonight, her life was his. He’d given up everything so she could live. Her life was his.

Saving her had destroyed him. One day, he vowed as he watched a man pick up the little girl and take her away, his eyes on her, he would collect his debt.

She was innocent. Completely innocent. She had done nothing wrong except exist. Yet, her very existence made her want to weep. Her very existence made her want to break bones. She existed because of him. She was innocent but he had been innocent too. She was innocent, and yet she was stained with blood. His blood. The blood of his father.

Amara was wrong - he wasn’t nothing. He felt. He felt so deeply he didn’t let himself feel. He felt so deeply he feared his own reactions to it.

“So here’s the thing, Mr. Caine.” She won’t call him by his name again, not until he gave her the right. “I have made my decision — for good or bad. Now, it’s time for you. I’m giving you the chance to kill me, right here, right now.”

You’d never get a better opportunity to kill me. You know it, I know it. This would stay only between us and the dead that are buried here. So, point that gun at me one more time and aim for my heart. Shoot me. Find your closure. Find what you’ve been looking for, for twenty years.”